Monday, July 27, 2009

in the ditch

And he said to them, "Which of you, having a son or an ox that has fallen into a ditch on a Sabbath day, will not immediately pull him out?"

Luke 14:5 (ESV)

Well...our ox was in the ditch, so to speak.

We don't usually work on the Lord's day, but Fred had hay on the ground, and stormclouds were rolling in. (For you city folks, hay needs to be completely dry when it gets baled and put away or it will mold.)

So we headed out to the hayfield.

I got to ride on the back of the trailer and stack the bales that were thrown on. I just couldn't do the top layer since it's taller than me. It's a good thing that coastal hay is lighter than alfalfa..

Speaking of the wound, I found an ox that I'd like to throw in a ditch...

The first shower of rain barely misses us. We finally get it all loaded and head towards the barn as the thunder rolls overhead:

Woo hoo! The hay is safe in the shelter. Let it rain!

And it did.

I did not get away from the hayfield unscathed. As we were getting close to the end, I was standing near the back of the trailer. Shirley (who was driving the tractor) accelerated and hit a bump in the field at the same time. I bounced right off the trailer and hit my shin on the metal edge on my way to the ground. I have a terrific lump and it hurts like crazy.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

liberal glasses

I wore my glasses to work today. The official story is that my eyes were too tired for contacts at 7:00 am this morning. If we're being honest, I like to pretend that I have a secret identity when I wear them.

That's just wishful thinking.

As I was headed out the door, it struck me that my little brother wasn't around to ask me if I was going to save the whales, stop the war, or join the ACLU. He's gotten it into his head that my glasses look like the ones that pseudo-intellectual liberals wear...and he gives me fits about them. I miss him.

Monday, July 20, 2009

party planning committee

We take turns being on the party planning committe at work each month. We get randomly paired up and are responsible for hosting a party for the people with a birthday in our month.

July is my month.

And it has completely snuck up on me. I picked up the paper products, found cute napkins, and made a giant vat of pimiento cheese to serve along with the veggie tray. (Fortunately I was not responsible for the drinks or the cake. The cake is too much pressure.) I've packed up all my serving pieces for tomorrow. I also may have stolen one of Fred's "get well soon" flower pots to use as a centerpiece. Yet here I sit...at 10:00 pm the night before the party, and I realize that I think we need an additional table cloth to cover the giant table in the conference room. That means that I have to run back to the party store at lunch tomorrow (fortunately it's just a few blocks away) to get another one. Which guarantees that I'll lose my parking spot.

You can keep the party planning committee. I'm going to join the Finer Things Club.

Sunday, July 05, 2009

CSI:Pasture

Well...I knew that if I ever uploaded a video it would have to be a good one. This one definitely takes the cake. I wanted to ride around and take some pictures of the farm, and you know Rachael is always up for an adventure. She even brought Angie along.

We were riding through the low grounds, when...well...here's what happened:

We'll call it CSI:Pasture. I just wish that at the end of the video, I'd made a witty remark, put on my sunglasses, and looked off into the distance.

Saturday, July 04, 2009

two flags

We're flying two flags this Fourth of July.

Of course there's Old Glory. The Stars and Stripes. The Grand Old Flag. It's symbol of freedom all over the world. But there's a second one this year. It doesn't hang on a flag pole or flap in the breeze. It's very small in comparison to the US flag, and you might not even see it from the road.

Wednesday, July 01, 2009

ain't that a kick in the...

Fred was wounded in the line of duty last week.

He got kicked by a cow. In the upper thigh. It turned positively black and had a knot the size of a tennis ball. His doctor decided that they needed to remove the knot surgically to ensure that everything healed properly. It's healing...but very slowly. He's been in the hospital since last Thursday.

We figure that we may as well laugh about the injury. One of his friends bestowed a prestigious honor on him. He's the first recipient of the Purple Udder Award:

He's got his instructions from the physical therapist:

I've also been having too much fun bringing him stuff. I'm particularly proud of the balloon. Her name is Bertha. I found him a cow to play with that won't kick him. Last night I smuggled in some Eastern NC bbq, slaw, and hushpuppies. I figured that he needed some comfort food.

Fred's fame has spread throughout the hospital. Every time a new nurse comes in and sees the cows, they say "Oh YOU'RE the one that got kicked by a cow!"

Joking aside, all prayers are appreciated. When he does come home (hopefully in a couple of days), he'll be on crutches for at least two weeks. I have a feeling that this will be difficult for him and for Shirley.